


A Wolf in Wolf's Clothing

by blackeyedqueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Wolves, Dean POV (mostly), Gen, depictions of animals hunting/killing other animals, not were-creatures like ACTUAL wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4037740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedqueen/pseuds/blackeyedqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean as wolf pups, trying to survive with their father after their pack is wiped out and their territory is taken over by another pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wolf in Wolf's Clothing

**Author's Note:**

> This exists because anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE wolves. This is pretty much the direct result of watching 3 wolf documentaries in one day :). I really want to add more to this at some point and make it a whole story, but please don't hold me to it. I have a really bad habit of wanting to make a big deal out of things but only having enough juice for a small bit at a time. I hope you enjoy what I have so far regardless. I think this bit is good enough as a stand alone :).

***

 

Being born is... Strange. For many weeks he stays inside a wet heat, pressed up against another slimy, forming being, warm and safe, just growing and becoming. And then it's just an overwhelming urge to get out, _now_! It's as if deep in his mind he decided _Ok, I'm done with this now_.

He thinks it's the strangest thing. Why would he want to leave this warm safe cocoon where he has everything he'll ever need? He's never uncomfortable (save for right now) and never lonely with this Other One always pressed against him. What's so great out there? Will there be warmth? Is the Other One coming too? He doesn't know. But apparently, this is how it goes.

Being born is also gross. He comes out slimy and sticky onto some cold dirt and is licked furiously by a broad wet tongue.

 _Mom_ his brain supplies. Mom is licking him and cleaning him. Then, just like that, she's gone again.

He feels the ache of not only the loss of Mother, but of the Other One he'd grown so accustomed to sharing his space with. He was so cold and damp in the dirt and he just wanted his warmth back, his comfort. He cried for it, whining and yipping, desperately hoping at least Mom would be back soon, if anyone.

What he gets is even better. A short time later, Mom's damp nose is scooting him around, an uncomfortable sensation, but at least Mom is back. Oh but then he feels it. The familiar warm body of the Other One, now licked clean like him, squirming around in equal confusion. They nestle together with Mom around them. He can't see and he can't hear but he feels. He feels warm. Safe. Right. Like he has everything right next to him.

 _Brother_ is what he feels.

 

***

 

He really likes Mom and Brother. Even Dad. Dad is strong and powerful and he brings food. Mom is strong and powerful, too, but only to everyone that's not him or Brother. She's even like that to Dad sometimes.

Brother is... Annoying.

Brother is constantly trying to suckle the teat that he is already suckling. He can't do much but try to shove away Brother's dumb smushed up face with his own face, but it doesn't do much. Mom eventually pushes Brother down a bit with her own nose. He gets back at Brother by trying to eat all the mushy stuff Mom gives them for himself. But, Mom pushes him out of the way, too.

Soon they're moving a lot more, and seeing more, and eating more. And unfortunately, hearing more. Brother doesn't shut up. He whines a lot. Brother thinks he's howling but it's just these dumb whining noises, so he lets a growl out from deep in his throat, not as scary as Mom or Dad's, though. Brother is not impressed and decides to pounce on him. They roll around in mud, jaws wide and grabbing, but not really biting, yipping at each other until he pins his brother. Brother tries to squirm out from under, but he's not letting go. Oh no, he has Brother where he wants him.

After he's done and made his point, he let's Brother go. But of course, as he's turned away, Brother catches him off guard, attacking his ears with his gross wet tongue.

 

***

 

He's not sure why they need names. They are Mom and Dad and Brother. The rest of the pack is just the Pack. Other Wolves. But Mom and Dad insist. They have names, John and Mary.

They call him Dean, and Brother Sam.

 

***

 

Dean doesn't have a chance to learn the others’ names. Soon they're gone. Mom, too.

 

***

 

It's not safe for them. They don't have a territory anymore. Or a pack. It's just them and Dad. The Bad Wolves stalk the top of the valley, slinking around what was once their territory. They probably look down at them at the bottom of this valley and laugh at them. Probably waiting for a day to pick the last of them off. Dean decides that if he should ever accomplish anything in his life, it's taking down the alpha of that pack and taking back what's rightfully his. Those are his lands, where his mother’s den was.

Dad doesn't want the pack, just the kill.

Sam just wants to survive.

 

***

 

Learning is top priority. Tracking. Hunting. Killing.

Taking down a big game is impossible without a whole pack working together. One lone wolf and his two pup sons aren’t going to do shit themselves, especially two pups as green as summer grass.

Dad catches them fish. It’s enough for now.

Learning disguised as games is always best. Dad shoos Dean away to hide in the forest and later sends Sam out to find him. Hide and Seek.

Dad lifts his nose to the air, inhaling deep, then to the ground, sniffing in and out at a rapid pace.

_Smell him._

Sam tentatively sticks his nose to the ground, and there, mixed with the smell of dirt and twigs and leaves is _Dean_. His Dean. _Gotta find Dean._

His nose leads him. Dad follows a safe distance behind, letting his son’s nose do the work. As Sam gets closer, a low whine forms in his throat, just threatening to boil over in a howl, to call out for his brother. Then, a quick sharp rumble from Dad.

_Quiet._

How is he supposed to be quiet when he’s gotta find Dean?

Dean watches from under his bare little bush, about 300 yards up the valley and east. He can hear the low whine in Sam’s throat from where he’s at. He almost responds, almost, but he knows he has to stay quiet. Sam needs to get this.

Sam’s making decent progress but the anxiety is rolling off of him in waves. Why? He’s so close. Dean watches him sit down on the ground, ears pushed back, looking at Dad.

Dad rumbles at him.

_Keep moving._

Another small whine slips from Sam’s throat.

_But I have to call him, I have to find Dean._

John gives his son a shove with his head.

_You will. Sniff, Sam._

Sam gets up slowly, sticks his nose to the ground. He picks up the trail again, and again he moves. Dean feels the pride in his chest.

_Yes, Sammy, good job._

Sam gets more confident the closer he gets, his one-track-mind spitting _DeanDeanDeanWhere’sDean_ , until he comes to the little bush hiding his brother. He smells his brother’s scent right there in front of his, sees his green wolf eyes and his tawny fur and tackles him.

Dean is enveloped in a whole world of Sam, Sam, Sam, all dark fur and wet tongue all over his body as his brother yips at him and licks him excitedly. A moment ended too soon when Dad comes up to his pups, shoots them a quick bark, and nods his head for them to follow him back down to the bottom of the valley.

The two wolves walk side by side, their father in front, as Dean gives a quick lick to his little wolf brother’s ears.

 

 

***

 

 

It’s strange that Sam isn’t as big as Dean is. Dean didn’t really think he was stealing _all_ the food when they were babies, and he only did it because Sam started it first. But his brother is a lot leaner than he is, just not quite as much meat on his bones.

 _Meat_ on his bones. Dean inwardly cringes. Nothing will ever view his brother as meat. Nothing.

Yes, Sam needs to eat more. But he needs to pull his weight in their little pack, too.

They’re currently both eating from the same carcass. They helped Dad take down an elk. It was exhilarating. Dean loves the taste of hunting. Sam is gnawing on a less meaty part of the animal, glancing at Dean occasionally, worried, ears almost pushed back. Dean snapped at him today.

For a while they’d had a system. Dean and Sam tire out the game, Dad running around some as well before ultimately taking down the prey. Then he decided his pups should make the kill.

Dean’s made three kills. Sam has made none.

Sam fishes well enough and can smell out the small game now, killing them easily. But he won’t take down anything bigger than themselves. No matter how hard Dean and Dad try to manipulate the game, push it into the perfect position to give Sam the chance to take it out, he doesn’t. With this elk, they ran and ran, Dad on one flank, Sam at its rear, and Dean on Sam’s heels. Dean tries to nudge him as best as he can while they’re running.

_Take it Sam, just take a chunk out. Wound it._

But Sam doesn’t, and Sam doesn’t. Even when the elk begins to slow.

Finally Dean let’s out a low growl, passing up his brother, paws hitting the ground hard with Dad closing in on the side. Dean leaps, latching on behind, slowing it down, while Dad latches onto the side. The elk isn’t quite done yet, they’ve injured it, but it will still fight. And it does. Eventually they take it down, once Sam finally decides to latch on. Their teeth gnash into the animal’s hide, snarls flowing from their mouths. Dean loves this, loves the warm salty taste of fresh meat and blood under his teeth. Once Sam throws himself into the mix, they bring the elk down easily but it’s too little too late.

Dad and Dean are digging in, and Dean is high off of the kill, adrenaline pumping and blood flowing over his mouth. He can’t help himself. Sam goes to take a bite and Dean loses it. He’s on top of Sam in a second, snarling and growling hard and loud, teeth bared, pinning his brother into the ground, the message clear:

_You eat last today._

Sam growls back, but then ultimately whimpers, submitting to his brother. He feels weak. Defeated. How many times have the brothers been in this same position before, two pups, yipping and rolling, one pinning the other? Except Dean is serious now. He means this.

Dean lets him go and goes back to enjoying his meal, while Sam stalks around the carcass. Sam needs to learn to hunt, Sam needs to learn to fend for himself. It’s kill or be killed, and should Dad or Dean ever be killed ( _not Sam, not ever Sam, I’d kill or be killed for Sam_ ), Sam needs to have experience with taking out big game. Especially if he should need to find a new pack. There’s no way a new pack would take him in if he couldn’t even hunt, and if they did, he’d be bottom dog, omega, everyone’s punching bag. No. Not Dean’s brother.

A few minutes later, Sam presses his luck, moves into the kill to sniff it, snatch a piece. A growl is just in the pit of Dean’s chest, but then he remembers his brother isn’t as big as he’d like and allows him to approach to eat.

And then Sam gives him those looks every few moments, studying him, gauging his temper, not getting too close. He takes small bites, from the part of the carcass with the least meat. The guilt wells up in Dean.

Once he’s had his fill, he slinks over to Sam who's still timidly picking at his food. He presses his muzzle into his fur, breathes deep, then licks him slow on the ear once.

_I’m sorry._

The next hunt, Sam takes down a buck. It’s not huge, but it’s something. They didn’t even have to tire it out that much before Sam dove into it, teeth digging in, blood spilling over his snout, Dad and Dean right behind him tearing in. Sam sets back a minute, looking at the now dead animal, like he’s admiring his work. Dean approaches him, licking the blood off Sam’s mouth, his face.

_You did good, Brother._

Sam wags his tail before taking a giant chunk out of his kill.

***

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote John a little snippier than I intended to, and the scene where Dean pins Sam for not pulling his weight is a little mean and I feel bad, but realistically in the animal world that's how it'd go :/. Anyway, feel free to leave feedback!


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